The In-Between
by silver rosebud
Summary: A collection of one-shots relating to The Forgone Trial. Missing scenes, alternate perspectives, and some plain fun thrown in for good measure.
1. Chapter 1

**Good morning/afternoon/evening/ungodly hour of the night, dear readers. I said I was working on some one-shots about a month ago, so I think it's time to post what I've got.**

 **If you're new, and you haven't read The Forgone Trial, I'd recommend reading that first. If you have read my previous story or you're not going to follow my advice, I hope you enjoy.**

Dawn was highly disappointed to learn that, despite its good reputation, _A History of Magic_ was not a thrilling read. The tome might have been preferable to other textbooks, but it was not by any means light reading material.

That did not mean she would set it aside to gather dust. She was determined to soak up every drop of information on magic she could find. If that meant slogging through a dreadful book on a summer day, so be it.

Besides, getting through another chapter meant that she didn't waste a trip to St Mungo's.

Inter-dimensional diplomacy was taxing work—especially when she was being prodded by Ministry workers who wanted to figure out why she could brew a usable potion but not use a wand—but it provided Dawn with the perfect excuse to wander around Britain's magical community and potentially end up at the wizard hospital where an accidental acquaintance of hers was residing.

Her luck that day had run out, as Sirius was asleep when she arrived during visiting hours. She didn't have the heart to wake him up, so Dawn sat in a chair to read for the duration of her stay.

She had visited once before to confirm that Harry would be going to Alola for most of July to stay with his friend Moon. Sirius had been surprised by the offer, but he hadn't fought against it once Dawn assured him that his godson would be safe with the Alola Champion.

With July starting within the next few days and more work scheduled at the Ministry anyway, Dawn made the decision to visit the ex-convict. She was admittedly curious as to how he was faring. Ever since he quite literally dragged her into the conundrum that was his wrongful imprisonment, she'd been intrigued by the man. Sirius had emerged from twelve years in Azkaban relatively sane and had evaded Ministry capture until he revealed himself and his target that night in the Shrieking Shack. That was a feat that no one else could claim. If the Ministry's new training programs and defences were effective, he'd be the only one.

Dawn had gone through the chapter on witch burnings when she saw Sirius stir. It was subtle at first; his eyes briefly twitching; his wrists turning against the hospital bedsheets; his brow furrowing. When a hitched breath escaped his mouth, she began growing concerned. She reached out to him, her fingers grazing his arm when he recoiled as if burnt.

In hindsight, she should have known the man would be prone to nightmares. He had lived in one for twelve years, and while he of all people deserved a respite from constant torment, his mind was unlikely to allow it.

Dawn set her book aside, opening her purse and rifling through its contents until her fingers hooked around a length of string. She removed the object, letting the feather charm dangle from her hand for a moment before she laid it over the sleeping man's neck. The effect of the Lunar Wing was immediate, chasing away the nightmare and leaving behind a dreamless sleep.

It was another half-hour before Sirius woke up. Dawn was immersed in her book once again and didn't notice his eyes opening.

"When did you get here?" he asked, catching her attention. Dawn marked the place she was at and shut the book.

"Some time ago," she answered vaguely. "How are you feeling?"

"Fantastic," he replied flatly.

"For some strange reason, I don't believe you," Dawn said, folding her hands in her lap. Sirius grimaced, looking away from her and up at the ceiling.

"I didn't ask you to be here, or to believe me."

"If I didn't believe you, I wouldn't be here. Neither would you, for that matter."

He flinched. It was true, to an extent, that he would have been done for if Dawn hadn't stepped in when she did. On the other hand…

"You threatened to put me into a coma," he stated, meeting her eye again.

"Because it kept you from running before the truth got out," she replied. "Besides, you dragged me through a tunnel into that abandoned shack."

"Because you had the rat in that fancy purse of yours," Sirius said back.

"It appears to me that we have an even score, then," she said with an air of finality. Sirius stared at her, not saying anything, until he turned his gaze back to the ceiling.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"To see how you've been faring."

He waved his hand over the bed. "I'm alive. Not much more than that."

"You're upset," she stated.

"I'm sick of being here," he said. "Pretty sure a hospital's job is to keep people from getting too sick, but apparently I'm wrong about that."

"You need time to heal."

"I've wasted plenty of time being in places I didn't want to be," he said coarsely. "What I _want_ to do is find a place to live, get my wand back, and go for a walk outside. Not be stuck in another room against my will."

"You're sick," Dawn said. "Not in the tired, you-despise-this sense, but literally physically and mentally ill sense. Don't attempt to claim otherwise," she said when Sirius opened his mouth to argue, "you've been surrounded by Dementors for over a decade. You were on the run for almost a year. You've hardly gotten the chance to have a decent meal or a proper night's rest in all that time."

"I tracked down the rat and evaded the whole damned Ministry," he muttered. "I survived all that… and they think I couldn't handle buying a house."

"You had a reason for doing all those things; you were motivated by the possibility of freedom," Dawn said slowly. "Everything else has been pushed to the side by that drive, but with Pettigrew in prison and your innocence proven, there's nothing keeping those things at bay. There's nothing motivating you now."

"There's Harry," Sirius countered.

"The reason you escaped in the first place was to make sure he was safe. You know he's safe now that Pettigrew is out of the picture."

"I promised him a place to live," he said. "Promised James… that I'd take care of him if anything happened…"

He was beginning to drift off. No matter how much he argued, the fact was that he was unwell and wouldn't be able to take care of himself, much less a child, until he was healed.

"No one's going to try and stop you from keeping those promises," she said. "But you won't be able to raise Harry unless you're well."

He laughed; a raspy, bark-like laugh. "And some bed rest and hot soup can cure twelve years in Azkaban, is that it?"

"It's certainly a step in the right direction. You need rest and some decent food to start getting better."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I'm getting either here," he said half-jokingly.

"I'll sneak something in next time," Dawn remarked, sliding the book into her purse and standing up. Confusion marred Sirius's face.

"Next time?"

"If you're fine with me visiting, of course," she said. "I believe visiting hours are almost over for today, and I do have some other places I need to be. I know today was a bit of a surprise—"

"Why did you come here?" he asked. "Why do you care what happens to me?"

She looked at him, meeting his eye cautiously, as if she were waiting for another reaction or outburst. When he didn't say anything more, she looked away.

"Interesting people are so rare nowadays," she commented. "I have to talk with the few I manage to find, do I not?"

Dawn slipped out of the room, her words echoing in the Animagus' ears. A slow, almost smug smile spread across his face. It dissolved when a flash of colour, completely out of place in the drab hospital room, caught his eye. He raised a hand to his neck and wrapped his fingers around the feather pendant.

He did not exactly know why, but he was compelled to slide the pendant over his head and around his neck. And when he did drift off to sleep, his dreams were free of the Dementors' lingering torment.

 **So things have been a bit crazy for the past month because I decided to switch what I'm studying in university, and I went from moderately paced classes to assignments due every week and labs for every class. On the plus side, I can honestly say that I'm not bored during the lectures and that I've gone from doodling in my notebook 75% of the time to only 35%.**

 **On top of that, I have a few more story ideas bouncing around in my head, none of them related to TFT, and I've gotten more than 5000 words worked out for one of them. I don't know the direction I'm taking with it, however, so it's more of a writing exercise now than anything.**

 **And I still don't know who to ship Moon with. I'm leaning towards one character but everything else is so tempting. Only thing I'm sure about is who I am not shipping her with. It's the shorter list at this point.**


	2. Chapter 2

Moon was paler than she had been when she disappeared.

Red had never noticed just how much the Alolan sun contributed to the healthy tan he had always associated with the young champion. Being shut away in a stuffy castle and reading books had taken its toll on her complexion.

Not that she looked terrible, per say. Just different.

Her hair had grown past the bob-length she preferred. Red didn't know why she hadn't gone to the salon; it wouldn't have taken long to have a haircut. She had a better excuse with her clothes, which had gotten too small as she had grown at least two inches. Her jeans were pulled over her kneecaps by necessity rather than by any fashion trend of the week. Even her eyes, once pure liquid-blue and full of admiration for him, were older.

 _'Her tastes haven't changed,'_ he thought wryly as he watched her stick a translucent plastic spoon into her dish of ice cream. Lemon-lime, with an unholy amount of gummy worms on top. Moon never cared that the candy got cold and too chewy to consume properly. He could have sworn she liked to be contrary with her eating habits.

He watched her twirl one of the candies around the neck of her spoon. Moon hadn't looked up from her dish since she bought it. He doubted that she was completely focused on playing with her food, but he didn't know why she would be so standoffish.

Granted, he hadn't really spoken to her beyond basic greetings, but Moon had started their conversations for as long as he had known her. She always knew how to approach him, what topics to avoid, how to get people to laugh, and everything that he never got the hang of.

What could he possibly say to her?

"How was school?"

That got her to laugh—a short huff more than anything, but still a laugh—and she met his eye the first time that day. "Don't say that. It sounds weird."

"Going to school is weird?"

"Going to a school for children when I've already graduated is weird," Moon said, plucking one of the candies from the top of the mound and biting off its head. "Learning about ancient spells and curses as if they are as common as maths or spelling is weird. Helping an escaped innocent convict and capturing a murderer that had posed as your friend's pet rat for years is weird."

"And you have an issue with 'weird' events?"

"It's different than what happened here in Alola," she said. "I couldn't solve all my problems with a pokémon battle."

"Did you try that?" he asked, taking a bite of his caramel ice cream.

"Yes, actually," Moon said, twirling her spoon in her fingers. "I ended up hospitalising a werewolf that wanted to eat me."

"Good for you."

Her lips quirked upwards. "After that the Ministry dragged me over and had me list every pokémon I had on me. Wasn't going to risk that again for a few silly arguments."

"Never thought someone deserved a Thunderbolt to their head?" he said, smirking himself.

"Sometimes," she answered, the smile on her face fading away, and his following soon after. The younger champion took another gummy worm between her fingers. She held it there, not moving to eat it or drop it back into the pile. She merely stared.

"I have an older brother."

The statement was so sudden and quick that Red missed seeing her mouth forming the words. "Pardon?"

"My dad had a wife and a son before he ended up here," Moon said. "I have a half-brother who's a full twenty years older than I am. His name is Remus Lupin."

Red blinked. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

"Did you have a chance to meet him?" he asked slowly. He wasn't sure how to approach the subject; it should be a good thing that Moon had a brother, right? The idea shouldn't paralyse him and steal his sense.

Moon rolled her eyes. "He was one of the professors at school. I could hardly miss him."

He gave a little smile in spite of the bitterness welling up in his chest. He should be happy for her.

"What did you think of him?"

"He was… nice, I guess," she said, finally biting into the candy she had been fiddling with. "Smart. Had a pretty wicked sense of humour, too; he had one of the other students conjure another professor in drag during class." The other half of the gummy worm disappeared into her mouth. "Sort of an idiot sometimes. Ignored me for about a month when he realized we were related. Also quit right after he heard his former best friend wasn't a murderer and was in the hospital. Said he needed to make sure his friend was okay. Don't know why he couldn't do that if he was employed…"

He watched her stab her spoon into the scoop of ice cream, his mind cataloguing every bit of information she had given him. It didn't sound like they were close. Moon sounded fond of him, but that was just Moon's way; showing everyone she knew some form of affection and attachment.

The bitterness lessened, but remained twisting and turning against his ribcage.

The conversation turned to another topic, but Red merely listened and nodded at the right times, letting the younger champion relay her entire adventure at Hogwarts to him without interruption. Watching her eyes light up when she described the feasts, her smile growing as she recalled her performance at a gala, and the way her hands gestured when she was telling him about the eventful evening at the Shrieking Shack settled the thoughts swirling around his mind.

Remus Lupin might have been her older brother biologically, but Red had been in Moon's life for far longer than him. It was Red who knew Moon better. It was Red who first met Moon at the Battle Tree, seeing her as a powerful trainer the minute he laid eyes on her instead of seeing her as part of the crowd. It was Red who she went to for guidance, for advice when she was left reeling. He had never turned his back on the girl who had looked him in the eye and challenged him to a battle, and he never intended to.

Remus Lupin shared a parent with her, but Red was certainly more of an older brother to Moon than he would ever be.

 **Red acting as Moon's protective older brother is one of my favourite ideas.**


	3. Chapter 3

The residents of Privet Drive were a nosy bunch, but they were not the most observant. Number 8 loved to gossip, Number 15 always had the latest scandal details, and Petunia Dursley of Number 4 had a habit of eavesdropping, although no one ever mentioned it. Despite these tendencies, no one ever bothered to search for the truth. Privet Drive took everything at face value. Harry Potter was a delinquent, their own sons were angels, and the woman strolling down the sidewalk towards Number 4 wasn't of any interest.

They could be forgiven for the last slip-up. It wasn't unusual to see someone going for a mid-morning stroll in Little Whinging. The woman looked like she could be a resident of one of the neighbouring streets with her sundress and wide-brimmed hat. If someone had bothered to look closer, however, they would have seen the glossy blue hair that the woman had tried to cover up.

Dawn evaluated the rows of identical houses with disdain. She couldn't understand why anyone would want to live in such a boring place. Each house being a carbon copy of the ones surrounding it made a dull, dreary atmosphere, even when the weather was so pleasant out. She regretted not asking to borrow a car from the Ministry; she had thought teleporting would be more efficient.

Teleporting usually was more efficient, when everyone was aware such a thing was possible. But due to the odd laws of secrecy, Dawn had to locate a well-hidden spot to appear and then walk the rest of the distance. It had been surprisingly difficult, and she ended up having to pick leaves out of her clothes as she ended up in a tree in a deserted park. She had originally contemplated teleporting inside the house, but thought it would be rude.

As she rang the doorbell to Number 4, Privet Drive, she began to wish she was less polite.

"Get the door, boy!" a gruff voice shouted from within the house. Footsteps rattled down what sounded like a staircase before the door was wrenched open.

Harry Potter was small for his age, and yet Dawn still had to tilt her head upwards to make eye contact. His hair was still a mess, his clothes were oversized, and there were dark smudges under his eyes that spoke of more than one night of poor sleep. Despite these things, he was smiling.

"Are you ready to leave, Harry?" the champion asked. A blonde woman peered around the corner inside the house, and Dawn had to suppress a grimace.

"Packed and everything," he said, standing up a bit straighter. The woman had gone around the corner and was standing behind Harry. Her arms were crossed and her lips were pursed as if she had sucked on a lemon slice. Or maybe that was her default expression.

"Don't tell me you invited one of your kind here, boy," the woman spat. She glanced over Dawn with contempt. "You're not welcome here."

"Petunia Dursley, I presume?" Dawn said. "May I step inside for a brief moment? I'd rather not draw any attention from your neighbours."

Petunia Dursley's lip twitched. Her eyes darted between Harry and Dawn before she nodded stiffly, turned around and headed into another room, presumably to ignore them for as long as she could manage.

"Sorry about her," Harry said, taking a few steps up the stairs. "She doesn't like magic that much. Nobody here does."

Dawn didn't comment on him excluding himself from the residents of Number 4, nor did she comment on how the volume of the television had gone up by a few notches.

"Don't apologize for her behaviour, Harry," she said, following him up the stairs. When the teenager reached the landing, he stopped walking and looked back at her.

"I'm just getting my stuff," he said.

"I know," she replied. "I was thinking it would be better to teleport from inside the house, however, and given your aunt's reaction to my presence, I think it's better to do so from your room."

He hesitated for a split second before moving toward the door to his room. Dawn followed him through the open door. The bedroom was clean, but the champion got the impression that it was due to a lack of things to make a mess with than actively cleaning the place. There were lines of old, broken toys on a bookshelf that sat next to dusty books that couldn't have been opened in the past decade. The bed was occupied by a large, locked trunk and a cage with a snowy owl in it.

"I was hoping I could bring Hedwig along," Harry said, although he seemed to be speaking in Hedwig's direction. "Ron would take care of her for the summer, but I'd rather not leave her behind."

"I'm sure Moon would be happy to have her over," Dawn said. Moon had mentioned the owl previously, so the older champion figured she wouldn't mind at the very least. "Are you certain you've packed everything?"

"I've gone over everything twice," he said. "School uniform, textbooks, other school supplies, my clothes—the ones that fit well enough, anyway—stuff for Hedwig, and my Firebolt."

Dawn stared at the trunk. She had her own experience with keeping the entirety of her necessities inside a case; one that was even smaller than the one Harry had. But she had a home to return to if she wished. She didn't take her favourite dresses or her numerous toys or her vast book collection with her. Those things would have only cluttered up her bag. She didn't have a use for them when she was travelling around the region.

Harry wasn't returning to Number 4, Privet Drive. He wouldn't be returning later on in the summer to collect anything he'd left behind. The short list he gave, nearly all of it Hogwarts-related, was everything he owned.

"How are we teleporting out of here?" Harry asked, breaking her from her train of thought. "Is there a pokémon that can do it?"

"There are a handful of pokémon with the capacity to teleport people," Dawn said. "Notably few Psychic-types have that power, although most people do not care. It is more convenient to ride a pokémon to a destination than seek out one that can teleport."

She pulled out a marble-sized pokéball from her bag and tapped it once, expanding it to the size of a baseball. She pressed the button in the middle, and a humanoid creature with green blades for arms appeared from a beam of light.

"This is Gallade, one of my most powerful pokémon," she said. She didn't miss the way Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the Psychic-type, with wonder instead of fear. A small smile blossomed into her expression. She wished she could see his reaction when he saw the world of pokémon for the first time.

But she wouldn't. It was Moon's job to introduce him to Alola and the various pokémon that lived there. Dawn was just the courier.

"Make sure you're holding onto everything," she said, wrapping her arm around one of Gallade's. Harry managed to awkwardly hold the handle of his trunk and Hedwig's cage while keeping one hand on Gallade's other arm. He nodded, signaling he was ready. Dawn looked her pokémon in the eye.

"Gallade, Teleport us to the Ministry of Magic."

The residents of Privet Drive were never the most observant bunch, but they were certainly nosy. And so when there was a bright flash of light from the window of the smallest bedroom of Number 4, all of the neighbours were asking questions:

What was that light?

Why was it coming out of their window?

Where was that delinquent nephew of theirs?

And Petunia Dursley, who prided herself on knowing every detail of every rumour, had hastily claimed to know nothing to every one of those questions.

 **Happy 2018 everyone.**

 **I am slowly edging towards getting a decent word count on the sequel. Pokemon Ultra Sun has given me some inspiration as to how to juggle the events of Goblet of Fire. Hopefully the result isn't too overwhelming.**

 **Anyway, I wanted to get another short story out before February. I hope you all enjoyed it!**


	4. Chapter 4

Blurry.

The ceiling, the lights, even the Healer standing above Remus were all blurry. Abnormal vision after a transformation wasn't anything new, but he couldn't recall why he was at St Mungo's and not Hogwarts, or why the usual ache was absent. It had been the full moon the previous night, he was sure of it.

"Mr. Lupin?" the Healer said, his voice oddly distant despite him being so close. "How are you feeling today?"

"Tired," he replied, although he wasn't sure if he managed to say the single word properly. His thoughts were sluggish at best; his physical capability couldn't have been much better.

"That should wear off soon enough," the Healer said. "We woke you up a little earlier than we planned; something urgent has come up."

His memory of the previous day floated to the surface; the exams, his conversation with Moon, and his appointment at St Mungo's to take the Nihilego Draught. He recalled raising the goblet to his mouth, and nothing after that. It had been early in the evening when he'd taken the potion. What urgent thing could have occurred within twelve hours? Something urgent enough that he'd be contacted while at the hospital?

Trepidation settled on him as one possibility edged toward the center of his thoughts. The name he had been trying to forget since that Halloween night, only for it to be posted on every street corner within the past year, was slowly creeping back. He had been trying to ignore the situation as much as he could, despite the news articles and the orders to protect the students from his former friend. Remus had managed to shove all thoughts of Sirius Black to the far corners of his mind. Now, they were coming back to him.

"What happened?" he asked hoarsely, the worst scenarios already playing out in his head. He'd spent the year trying to protect Harry, and the moment he stepped away something happened. The Healer—Fawley, the nametag read—opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"That would be the Auror wanting to speak with you," Healer Fawley said. "She's been badgering the other Healers for half an hour now I think. Said she needed to speak with you about an incident at Hogwarts that occurred last night. Wouldn't give me any more details than that."

There was another knock, and the Healer headed for the door. The moment Fawley opened the door, the Auror waiting outside stepped in, barely giving him the chance to move aside or invite her in. The Auror caught sight of Remus and flashed him a cheeky grin. Remus didn't smile back, his attention held by the fact the Auror's hair was an eye-catching shade of pink.

"Wotcher," the Auror said. "I'm here to ask you a few questions regarding Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black, if you're up for it."

He nodded, even though he barely had the capacity to talk. The Auror pulled out a quill and a notepad from the pocket of her robe and sat down in a wooden chair, crossing her legs as she did so.

"Were you aware that both Black and Pettigrew are illegal animagi?" was the first question out of her mouth. If he hadn't been lying down already, he would have fallen over.

"What?" he rasped, not entirely sure he heard her correctly.

"Were you aware that Black and Pettigrew are illegal animagi?" she asked again.

 _Are._

Present tense.

It might have just been a mistake on her part. Black was currently without a license, while Peter had never gotten his.

It was a strange way to phrase it, though.

"Yes, I know," he said carefully, mindful of the way his throat was already starting to ache.

"And you didn't think to bring this to the Aurors' attention before because…?"

"They did it for my sake," he said. "They wanted to help me. I didn't say anything because it felt like a betrayal and I'm a coward."

"They stayed with you during the full moons, then?" the young Auror asked.

"Since around the middle of fifth year," he said, not bothering to add the point when they stopped joining him on full moons during the middle of the war.

The Auror scribbled down something with her quill. "Did you ever consider how those animagi forms could have been misused?"

There it was. The part Remus had been dreading.

"I didn't want to think that Black could have used his form to escape from prison," he admitted. "His form is a big dog, so I thought there was no way he could simply slip out of a cell. I thought he used some form of dark magic he had learned from his work as a spy."

The more he thought about it, however, the more and more likely it seemed that Sirius could have escaped from his cell in Azkaban using his animagus form. The years of Dementor exposure would have made him wither away to almost nothing. If he was still clinging to some fragment of sanity, he could have had the sense to transform into a dog and slip through the bars under the Dementors' watch.

The Auror's lips quirked upwards in a smile. "I wasn't wondering about Sirius, Mr. Lupin. We already know how he escaped from Azkaban. I was wondering about Pettigrew."

"…Pardon?"

"I know this may sound unbelievable, but Pettigrew was found to be alive last night at Hogwarts," the Auror said, not a trace of humour in her voice.

Remus did not respond.

"It seems that he's been hiding for the past twelve years in the form of a rat," she continued. "Up until recently, he lived as the Weasley's pet rat."

"Pardon?" he repeated, beginning to wonder if he was still asleep and the whole conversation was a dream.

"It's tough to believe, I know," the Auror said with a grim smile. "You hear the same story for over a decade and then find out that none of it's true. I still haven't told my parents, since everything's happened so fast, but Pettigrew was found alive last night. He confessed to revealing the Potters' location to You-Know-Who and killing those muggles."

"It… no, Sirius was the Secret Keeper," Remus said. "Peter couldn't have…"

"They switched, according to both Pettigrew and Sirius' accounts," she explained. "Sirius thought he was the obvious choice, and thought that having Pettigrew as the Secret Keeper would be safer."

"Didn't turn out that way," Remus remarked. The Auror hummed in agreement.

"So you didn't ever come in contact with Pettigrew over the last twelve years?" she asked, quill pressed against parchment. "Never once suspected that something was off about Sirius' arrest?"

"I wished that it had all been a misunderstanding since Halloween," he said flatly. "I never understood why Sirius would turn on us when he hated everything to do with the dark arts and blood supremacy. But I honestly believed that Peter was dead. There was no other explanation other than Sirius betraying us."

Until the previous night.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Lupin," the Auror said as she rolled up the parchment she had been writing on. "They're bringing Sirius over here on the Minister's orders, by the way, in order to 'aid his recovery'. You could visit him later, if you feel up to it."

"Thank you for the information, Auror…"

"Tonks," the young woman said with a smirk. Remus thought the name sounded familiar but didn't have a chance to ask about it before the Auror left with a hurried goodbye.

Remus wouldn't be visiting Sirius that day. Perhaps not for the next week or so. He needed to get back to Hogwarts as soon as possible, get the full story from Dumbledore, and fill out a resignation form.

He had spent the last twelve years believing the worst of one of his closest friends. Remus was ready to give up the life he had managed to create over the past year if it meant having one other Marauder back.

 **Me: I should really work on the sequel for The Forgone Trial.**

 **Me to me: That would involve pouring over a single chapter twelve times for accuracy's sake. You have multiple projects to do for school.**

 **Me to me: Write one-shots and other stories to make yourself feel better about not working the sequel.**


End file.
